


One With No Doubt

by Shadowparade



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Homophobic Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:25:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowparade/pseuds/Shadowparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevor doesn't really socialize with anyone. He's too loud, too angry, too violent, but Michael seems to change that in him and make him realize that maybe he doesn't have to go through things alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first GTA fic, so I apologize if any of it is super out of character or anything like that!

Trevor was not a bad kid.

He loved his mother more than anything, he would do anything he could for her, and he did. When she asked him to go outside so that she and his father could talk, he did. Oftentimes it meant sitting outside in the rain through the night, but if his mother wanted privacy, then he would give it to her. A few colds were nothing compared to his mother's love.

When his father told him to sit with him, inhale some weird white powder, he did. If he said it was a way to bond with each other, then it was worth the twitching. It was worth the marks he got from picking at his own skin, and it even started feeling really good after the first few times. He felt lighter, really, and happier, and when he bonded with his dad he felt like maybe this trailer wasn't so bad after all.

Besides, when he was high it made daily life easier to get through. He didn't understand what it meant to be high until years later, when his mother started making herself scarce and his father ended up dead in some ditch. Trevor was never really sure how he died, his mother just said that he overdosed and oh, dinner's done. He had figured it was better not to press for more answers.

After his father was gone, Trevor got high on his own. Even when his mom was in the other room, with the latest guy that found her on the street, he was on his own. He didn't complain, even if he missed her, even if he wanted to cry because he would never see his dad again. Crying and complaining was for bad kids, and Trevor was not a bad kid.

It had been a long time since he'd really thought about that, though, just like it'd been a while since he'd seen his mother. Actually, Trevor hadn't seen her since the beginning of summer break, and he'd started his sophomore year of highschool two weeks ago.

He missed her, that was for sure.

Another thing that was sure was that he needed Ron to stop shouting about lizard people, like right now. He could hear the younger boy out in the yard, yelling at the trailer, and Trevor pushed himself up and off of his bed with a frustrated groan.

"I swear to god, Ron, I will beat your fucking face in."

The older of the two found his way to the front door, practically shoving the door off the hinges when he opened it to glare outside at Ron.

"Ron, the fuck are you doing?"

Ron seemed to jump out of his skin then, eyes darting to Trevor immediately. He ducked down then and glanced around, as if something were seeking him out. Trevor couldn't help but grin at the thought, but unfortunately the only thing seeking out Ron would be his fist if he didn't stop shouting.

"Trevor! They're close, you need to get to cover. A-anyway I got the drinks you wanted," The weird boy walked the few feet back to his own yard then, grabbing a six pack of beers like Trevor had asked for. Finally, something good came of this day.

"Thank the lord. Nice work." Trevor walked down the steps of his trailer-porch and over to grab the beers from his friend, frowning when he felt the sunlight shining down on him. It probably wasn't a good idea to wear mostly black in such a hot desert town, but whatever. Hey, at least he didn't have to worry about his hair making him super hot, right? It wasn't like he was bald, but his hair was certainly thin, and tended to stick up all over.

That being said, he'd probably start balding sometime soon. After all his father had lost quite a bit of his hair before he died, and he'd only died at 26. Trevor being 16 now, he was just trying to enjoy his hair in these few years he had left with it.  


The rest of the day went about the same, Ron occasionally shouting about the lizard people while Trevor sat inside, watching crap TV and getting high. So a typical day, really. He would drink the beers Ron had gotten him, but he was saving those for tomorrow. See, Trevor found it rather difficult to get through a school day without some kind of entertainment. Not that getting drunk in the bathrooms and locker rooms was that entertaining, but it was better than being stuck in a room full of people he hated, listening to teachers drone on about stupid shit he'd never think about again.

By the time midnight rolled around, Trevor was outside again, shooting at bottles he'd set up on an old dresser. He was a pretty good shot, and this was something he actually really enjoyed doing, however the rest of the neighborhood didn't like it quite as much. Especially considering he'd shot a few people in the foot on accident. Trevor felt a laugh escape his lips. Yeah, they'd thought it was on accident at least.

He held up his pistol, closing his right eye and aiming at one of the bottles. He breathed in to the sound of a car rolling up in front of the trailer, and breathed out to the sound of the bottle being shattered. Trevor let himself whip around then, pistol still held up as he looked to see who had pulled up. It was some car he didn't recognize, but the woman that stepped out of the passenger's side he certainly knew. He dropped the gun immediately, not even bothering to make sure it didn't shoot up at him.

"Mom, I--"

"Trevor, go make sure the house is tidy." His mother asked, her voice raspy as she smiled at her latest male friend, who had just gotten out of the car as well.

"O-of course, do you--"

"Trevor. Now."

Her voice wasn't quite pleasant then. He understood. Trevor sprinted back up to the trailer, walking inside and frantically throwing things around to try to make the place nicer. Considering the place was trashed, stains and trash everywhere, it was pretty hard to make it "tidy." He did as best as he could, though, and when he came back out in just a few minutes, the place was at least better than before.

"Okay mom, uh, are you staying for a while? I-I don't mean to bother you but," Trevor shifted in his place, realizing now that he was sweating from his nervousness. He just. He really loved his mother, and he got really worked up when she decided to show up.

"Ummm, I don't know? Go.." His mother looked around then, "..play with Ron or something, I dunno but mommy needs some alone time, 'kay?"

She and her companion walked towards the trailer then, and Trevor quickly moved out of their way.

"Yeah of course, um, I love--"

But the door was already shut, and Trevor was left in the darkness.

It wasn't often that he really felt.. sad. It typically only happened when his mother was around. Or not around.

Maybe he was just always sad, and didn't realize it until she was here.

"RON, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Came his roar as he turned and went towards the next-door trailer. It was late, sure, but it wasn't like Ron would be sleeping. Not after that shout anyway.


	2. Chapter II

Trevor woke up with a killer headache and a strong urge to shove Wade's face into the ground. He wasn't really sure why, after all he hadn't even seen him for a few days, but he just really wanted to do it. But instead, he just let out a sigh, something he did often.

He had ended up sleeping in the garage, not wanting to stay with Ron after the younger had mentioned introducing him to his mom. So he picked himself up off the dirt floor, walking out of the garage and out into the morning sun. It was gross, really. Or maybe that was just him, but whatever, all he knew was that something was gross. Trevor discovered that his mother was gone again upon walking into the trailer and finding it empty. It was quiet, for once, without the TV droning on or Ron shouting up a storm.

It creeped him out.

After turning on the TV for some sort of background noise, he changed into something that wasn't covered in dirt, and then he supposed it was time for school. He took the time to pack all six beers into his backpack, figuring that he might as well try. It was stupid, they'd probably all break and he'd get into trouble with the school, but if someone thought that he cared, then they were in for a surprise.

And with that he was all set, walking to school in record time and finding his way to the gym. There were a few students in there already, probably some sports enthusiasts or some shit, but Trevor ignored them, going right by and into the locker room. Not his favorite place, but it was better than the bathrooms sometimes.

He found a dark area behind some lockers, and with that he sat down, grabbing a beer from his bag and popping it open. Today was gonna be a shit day and there was no use even trying.

Within an hour he was already drunk off his ass, being that he was not really good at holding his alcohol, with one hand covering his watery eyes and the other holding his drink.

Fuck everything, really. He wished that he could just say that he hated his mom. That he hated living in a trashy redneck town, in a trailer that smelled of vomit and alcohol; that he hated the fact that the only people who thought him worthwhile were two brats who never even knew what was going on. He hated that his dad had died an unimportant death, one moment here and the other gone. He hated that his mom hadn't even cared. The only thing she cared about was herself.

Shit, he was crying. He wiped away his tears as best he could and took another drink.

 

Even though the locker room was loud and roudy throughout the day, Trevor didn't wake, completely dead to the world behind all the activity. That is, until some asshole decided to slap him and proceed to pour water all over him.

"What the FUCK?" Was the first thing out of Trevor's mouth, the skinny teen standing up immediately and looking around frantically.

"Chill out dude, I was just trying to wake you up. Didn't mean to scare you or anything."

"Scare me? Oh, I'll show you what scared means you little--"

"Hey, I mean it. I was just trying to wake you up. You've been out for hours."

That was a good point, he supposed, but it didn't do anything to get rid of Trevor's want to punch this guy in the face.

"Uh, the name's Michael. You're...?"

Trevor wiped the remaining water off his face, glaring at the other teen as he did so.

"Angry. So fuck off."

Michael gave an almost frustrated sigh then, shaking his head at Trevor.

"Whatever, dude. I guess next time you're drunk and passed out for hours I'll just let you choke on your own vomit, 'kay?"

"Fine with me."

The two stood in tense silence then, glaring at each other. Eventually Trevor rolled his eyes, bending down to grab his now-empty bag and sling it over his shoulders.

"Trevor, okay? My name is Trevor. NOW fuck off."

The other boy seemed pleased enough with that, even going so far as to smile at him.

"Will do. See you around, Trevor."

"Yeah, you fucking wish."

Michael turned to leave, and Trevor couldn't help but squint his eyes at his figure as he left. He looked.. familiar somehow. He didn't seem like the type of person Trevor associated himself with, though, so he figured he was someone unimportant. Just familiar-looking.

With a glance at his watch, Trevor made his way out of the mostly-empty locker room. Considering school ended about ten minutes ago, he figured he could leave. Honestly there was no point in even coming to school. He hardly ever went to class, generally just went and got messed up somewhere on campus until it was time to go.

Generally his walks home were quiet, but today the entire school was still loud and rowdy, even after hours. Probably some sports stuff. He walked out the front doors, finding a group of some.. sports players probably, sitting around the parking lot with who he assumed were the cheerleaders. He didn't understand the appeal--if he saw them out on the field, he'd probably cry out of disappointment for his school.

A few faces were familiar, he realized as he walked by them, until he stopped in his tracks upon hearing his name.

"Trevor! Hey, man, you doing okay?"

Jesus christ, it'd only been a few minutes. Michael needed to really back off.

Trevor turned around, finding himself now face-to-face with Michael again, only this time there was an audience. Including some girl hanging on his arm, a cheerleader probably if her outfit said anything.

"Fine and fuckin' dandy, Michael. Been a while, yeah? Anyway I need to go.. not be here."

"Hey, I'm just being nice."

"Mmm, sure you are."

Despite the hostility, Michael didn't seem like he was about to drop it.

"Are you coming to the game on Friday?"

Slightly surprised by the turn in conversation, Trevor suddenly remembered how this dude was so familiar. Football player, of course. Quarterback or something like that, he didn't fucking know the different football parts alright. Anyway, this guy was seriously well-liked around this trash school. No idea why he'd feel any need to be nice to Trevor without an ulterior motive, given his status.

"Nope. I stay away from games about sweaty boys throwing balls around. Actually when I think of it that way.. yeah, no. Not my thing."

This obviously irritated the girl at Michael's arm, who narrowed her little beady eyes at Trevor. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like her one bit. He sent her a grin. Yet despite her annoyance Michael still seemed unwavering in his confidence.

"Yeah okay, okay, I'll leave you alone. You should still come to the game though." Michael flashed another one of his oh-so-popular smiles, finally turning so that he and that girl could walk back to the inner circle of their group.

Then Trevor was off again, the rest of his walk home providing no more annoyances than usual.

Once back in his trailer, Trevor slammed the door shut, throwing his bag across the room to land somewhere he'd probably forget.

Even though that dumbass Michael guy was infuriating as hell, he still felt like.. he had to.. see him again, or something. If for nothing else than just to argue. Something about him was just interesting, and while he hated even thinking about most football players and other people like that, he couldn't help it now.

He even thought about going to the game, something he'd never imagined thinking about. Football games were for people to hang out with friends, or if you were really dumb, they were for actually watching the teams play. Trevor didn't want to do either of those things. Yet still he felt some kind of need to go.

 

By the time Friday morning rolled around, he decided against going. He'd probably just get annoyed and end up getting in a fight. So when he got changed, grabbed his bag, then left the trailer, he had no intention of going.

That, however, changed by the time he got to school. Outside the front doors was none other than that fucking Michael and the girl from before, probably his girlfriend, even though Trevor knew for a fact that he wasn't her only boyfriend. Poor Michael.

The two seemed to be arguing about something, had probably came out here to keep their quarrels away from everyone inside. Had to maintain that social status, right?

Trevor didn't slow his pace, ending up stopping on the steps right in front of Michael and the girl.

"Amanda, that doesn't mean you can just--"

"No. Stop it, Michael! You're just lying to yourself. You know that's not me. Why do you always have to think of me as such a bad person?"

Ah, her name was Amanda. He didn't like her one bit, as predicted. Anyway, now was his time to shine.

"Woah woah, lover's quarrel? Sounds fun. What's it for?"

Michael let out an irritated groan. "Please, not now."

"Hey, just being nice, right? I love helping couples work out their issues. It's my favorite pass time."

"Listen, dude, this is private. Get lost." Came Amanda's voice, though Trevor's gaze didn't leave Michael.

"Ooh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to inTRUDE. Damn." He raised his hands then, as if surrendering. There was a roll of his eyes when they fell back to his sides.

"I'll just be on my way then. See ya at the football game, Mikey. And you too, Amanda." Trevor blew her a kiss, whipping around on his heels to walk inside the school then. He heard her emit some aggitated noise as he left, causing a grin to spread across his face.

 

The game couldn't come fast enough. Trevor ended up going to all of his classes, much to his teachers' surprise, but it wasn't like he paid attention or anything. He just chewed on the strings of his black jacket, bounced his foot up and down, and rolled his eyes at the appropriate times.

Ah god, speaking of his black jacket. Was this outfit fine for tonight? Just a white v-neck, jeans, and his jacket. It was fine, right? Not that it mattered, he didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of him, but he felt like he needed to look fine as hell tonight. Maybe even wash the smell of alcohol off of him for once.

He bet Michael didn't constantly smell like alcohol. Probably didn't have to worry about his face bleeding from picking at it or anything like that either. Dumbass jock, he'd never have to worry about all that shit.

Ugh. Michael. He was certainly an annoyance, but one that Trevor felt like he would enjoy annoying in return.

So when school was finally out for the day, Trevor was in a rush to get home. It'd probably take fifty hours to make himself look even somewhat presentable. He pushed through the crowd around the front doors, hearing a few complaints shot his way as he did so, but he ignored them all. On a normal day, he might whip around and put them in their place. Not today.

He made it back to the trailer in record time, climbing over the fence rather than opening it and going up the steps to the door. When he got inside he flung his bag at the couch, wasting no time in going into the bathroom and ripping off his jacket and shirt. Damn. He probably needed a shower.

With a grunt he removed the rest of his clothes, deciding to take a shower for the first time in probably eighty years, and once out, found that he felt like a completely different person.

"Shit, I didn't know I was this pale." He muttered, looking in the mirror at himself once he had gotten dressed. He'd expected the darkness around his eyes to wash away, but apparently it wasn't just dirt, as he'd thought. Oh well though, it just added to the effect, right?

His hair was.. well he didn't know what exactly to do with that. It didn't do well with any kind of gel or product, his mom had realized that years and years ago, and it just kind of stuck up on it's own.

It'd have to do, it was time to go.

Trevor grabbed his jacket again, slipping his arms into it as he left the trailer.

The stadium was crowded. Both the opposing sides' bleachers as well as the home sides' were completely full, and there were still tons of people standing up to watch. There were, of course, also people just walking around, hanging out with friends, the usual.

Considering he both didn't want to pay and didn't have to money to, Trevor snuck in, climbing over the fence and trying to find somewhere to sit or stand. The game had started just a few minutes ago, and the band was already playing away.

He didn't really understand anything about football, but he was assuming that they were ahead so far.

It didn't take long to spot Michael, given as he was.. well it hurt to admit it but he really was the best player on the team. He actually did stuff, while the rest of the team looked lost and confused. So naturally one couldn't blame him for keeping his gaze on the quarterback, watching him as if he had the answers to a question he'd had for years. Hell, maybe he did.

By the time halftime was announced, Trevor had made his way down closer to the field, walking around until he was right near the gym. The team was heading over to have their break, all sweaty and exhausted but still in the lead.

When he saw Michael walking closer, he almost decided not to say anything. He'd never felt intimidated much before, but it was.. different now. Surrounded by the same people as in the parking lot, but now they were all in full body armor in a sense.

"Michael!" He ended up shouting, pleased to see that the quarterback turned his head and actually smiled when he saw him. After saying a few things to the guy next to him, Michael walked over, obviously the most worn out of the team.

"Hey T, didn't think you'd actually come. Nice to see you here."

"T?" It was odd for someone to actually try a nickname with him. Most people ended up with their face against the wall for that. "Ah, yeah, decided I'd like to see what all the fuss is about. Still not too sure, just looks like sweaty men in pads to me."

Even so, he wanted to tell him that he was actually impressed.

"You're the fuckin' worst on the team, Townley. It's amazing."

So he wasn't that great at compliments. Thankfully, Michael just chuckled, giving a little nod.

"Yeah, I know. Don't even know why I'm playing sometimes. Anyway I gotta go before coach kills me, I'll see you after the game though right?"

Michael started to turn away then, raising his eyebrows at Trevor as he began to walk away.

"That's right. Fuckin' count on it, M."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's all rushed or fast-paced, it should only be that way in the first few chapters just to establish everything and set up for the rest of the story.

After Michael went into the gym, Trevor had retreated back to his previous watching spot. The band was out on the field now, playing some tunes that he didn't know and didn't care to, because he knew for a fact that whatever they were, they were messing them up. Their band sucked ass and he tried not to listen to them whenever possible.

Halftime ended and the time crossed into third quarter, and the teams were back out. Once again Trevor's eyes remained on Michael, until the very end of the game, and he saw the quarterback shout and cheer with his teammates. They'd won, surprisingly.

Or maybe not so surprisingly. Michael was actually good, if Trevor was right, and he was never wrong.

He wasn't too sure where Michael would be after the game, so Trevor ended up walking to the parking lot, which was growing more and more empty by the minute as everyone left. A few cars had gotten spraypainted, thanks to the opposing team's supporters, but seeing as Trevor didn't have a car of his own, he didn't exactly have to worry about that. Michael, however, apparently did, because soon enough Trevor heard his voice and it didn't sound too happy.

A quick glance around told him that yes, Michael was here now, staring at his spray-painted car with both anger and what seemed to be shame. Trevor liked both. So he walked on over, unhappy to see Amanda on the other side of Michael, going on and on about something that Trevor didn't like hearing.

"Ooh, someone got you. What'd they write?" Trevor got closer to Michael's black Tailgater, finding that the spraypaint wrote "FQB" all over the car in bright pink. Amanda left Michael's side for once, getting in front of Trevor and looking pretty pissed off.

"It's none of your business! This is Michael's problem, not yours."

"Ohoho this seems pretty fun though. FQB? What's that mean? Fun Quack Brother? Frisky Quaker Bozo? 'Cause uh, Mikey, if you're frisky--"

"It's nothing, Trevor. It's just their initials." Michael piped up, not even bringing his gaze up from the ground to look at him. Trevor noticed this immediately, his slumped posture straightening out as he walked closer.

Amanda was back at his side in an instant, glaring at Trevor once again.

"No no no, it's not their initials. It means FAGGOT QUARTER BACK. And didn't I tell you to get, you fucking lowlife?"

"Stop it, Amanda!"

"It's not my fault, Michael! Maybe if you weren't so damn suspicious they wouldn't think you were a faggot!"

Trevor seemed to be ignoring them, still staring at Michael. He cracked his neck and yawned, apparently bored, before getting even closer to get between Michael and Amanda. That stopped their arguing, but Amanda just looked like she was pushed over the edge, while Michael mostly looked surprised. Ah well.

He grabbed Michael by the arm, his grip not harsh but still firm, and started walking them away from the angry cheerleader and out of the parking lot, into the trees beside it. It was incredibly dark outside tonight, the only lights from the moon and the lights from the stadium, but Trevor had gotten used to darkness a long time ago.

"T, what are you doing?"

"We're goin' someplace to get away from that bitchy lady, alright?"

"Yeah but where? I mean my car's back there--"

"Shhhhut up, Townley. Go with the fuckin' flow."

Michael was quiet then, letting the taller boy guide him through the dark trees. In a matter of minutes Trevor stopped, apparently at his destination, and made them both sit down. There was a little light here, a small clearing in the trees making way for the moonlight.

"Now, princess, you're safe."

"Safe? Trevor, I'm really confused. You just dragged me out into the middle of the forest, in the middle of the night, after a football game. You planning on killing me?"

"Not unless you wanna be killed, big boy. Anyway, had to get you away from Little Miss Priss back there. Wanted to talk to you."

"Really?" Michael's voice sounded suspicious, but Trevor really couldn't see his face to tell what he thought. The light from the moon only did so much, illuminating the edges of Michael's hair against the darkness as well as small light patches on his face.

Trevor had discovered this place years ago, when his father died, and had come here ever since. It was close to everything, but still private. He liked that, it was peaceful here. And this was the first time he'd brought anyone else here, but Michael didn't disrupt anything. In fact he almost made it feel more dream-like.

"So, Townley. Tell me about yourself. What's the deal with you and football and Amanda and all that shit."

"You're asking my life story?"

"Wah wah wah get on with it." Trevor stared at Michael for a few more seconds before realizing that he wasn't about to open up and spill those beans of life. He almost giggled just thinking that metaphor.

"Alright, I'll sweeten the dealio. You wanna be friends, right? I'll tell you about me if you tell me about you."

At that Michael seemed to reconsider, breathing out a sigh as he looked about the clearing.

"Okay. Uh.. you first."

"Born in Canada. Moved to Sandy Shores when I was like, I don't know, five." He nodded to Michael, as if saying it was his turn now.

"You're Canadian? ...Actually, that makes sense. Sometimes you pronounce things like a weirdo."

"It's a slight accent, fucker. Please do begin the life story of Michael Townley."

"Alright, well, I've lived here most of my life, went to school with all the same people, all that ordinary shit. Started doing football 'cause that's what my dad wanted, started dating Amanda 'cause that's what she wanted."

"Ever do anything for yourself?"

There was a silence in the clearing and Trevor shook his head.

"You should. Is there anything you want to do?"

Michael's head turned so that he could focus on Trevor more, now.

"You're being strangely nice for.. you know, being you."

"Shut the fuck up and answer me, alright?"

"That's what I thought. And ah, no, not really. I mean there's always things I'd like to do, but it's not like I'd ever do them."

"That's not true. Lay it on me."

"Okay, well, for example... I really like drama."

"I can tell. You're dating the head cheerleader."

"Not that kind, you shithead. The theater kind."

"Woah, like you wanna get up there and strut your stuff?"

"Yeah, just pretend I never said anything, you know? I don't want to hear it."

Michael started to turn away then, but Trevor just reached to grab his wrist and keep him still.

"Hey I wasn't trying to offend, dumbass, I'm just surprised that the quarterback would rather be performing Romeo and Juliet. I actually think you'd probably be good on stage. Or the absolute worst, like on the field, but people seem to like you anyway. I wouldn't give a fuck about what they all think either way."

"Neither would I. But I'm doing this for my dad, and.. Amanda, I guess. I don't know. She's only dating me because I'm the quarterback, it's pretty clear she hates my guts."

"That's true. But uh, I'm afraid to say we're all out of time. See, Dr. Phillips has got a real busy schedule. I'll fit you in next week at the same time though, just for you."

Trevor stood, extending his arms up in a stretch and letting out a yawn. Michael just sat for a second or two, looking rather shocked, but eventually he stood.

"Um, alright. You're really weird, you know that T?"

"I sure do. I like to think it's part of the charm."

He rubbed his eyes, obviously tired even though he typically stayed up way past this time. Michael, on the other hand, just looked plain worn out and stressed, but not quite as much as before. Trevor started walking, then, Michael following after.

"I really do have to make my leave, big boy. Got a nice weekend planned with my little friend Ga Soline. She's Italian, you know."

"Sounds really nice." Michael replied, and Trevor could just hear the eyeroll through his tone.

"Don't get sassy with me."

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway uh.. thanks for getting me out of there. Away from Amanda, I mean. We just fight all the time, and.. yeah. This was nice, hanging out with you."

"Fuck off, Townley. I'm not looking for your sentimental bullshit, alright?"

"Wha--"

"Unless you're willing to give it to me." Trevor was completely turned around then, only inches from Michael's face and staring at him with some kind of sincerity that he had never seen before from Trevor. It stunned him, really.  
But even as calming as the moonlight made the scene, it was shattered in an instant, the same old scary look in Trevor's gaze once again and a grin upon his lips.

"Oh fuck yourself. Don't think I'd lower my standards enough to be all lovey dovey with someone like you."

And then he was walking again, and Michael was yet again stunned into silence as he followed along after him.

Trevor had went home after he brought Michael back to the parking lot, glad to see that Amanda had left with the rest of the cheerleaders. A majority of the football team was gone now, too, and the crowd had left long ago, so he assumed that Michael would be heading home then too, and he'd left him on his own to his spray-painted car.

 

He didn't see Michael again for the rest of the weekend, in fact he did as he'd planned and spent his days off huffing gasoline, laying around the trailer doing nothing, and shooting his pistol. Ron came over a few times, considering he lived literally right next door and didn't have much else to do, plus he along with Wade had somehow developed a strange attachment to Trevor a while ago. He would never understand why, but he approved of it and liked the fact that he could use it to his advantage.

Ron and Wade were only freshmen this year, but Trevor had met them just a few weeks after he'd moved to Sandy Shores all those years ago. Wade had just been passing through with his cousins, on the way to some family reunion, but his cousins had ended up dying in a car accident while Wade was at their motel. Trevor had found the car, and the people inside of it, but instead of saving them like he knew he could, he had walked away and all the way to the motel, where he knew their younger cousin waited. He'd only talked to them because they had asked his mom for directions, but he knew where they were staying.

So he had arrived at the motel, Wade had let him in the room they were staying in, and Trevor kindly informed him that his cousins had taken off and left him in his care. He had hidden Wade in their garage, not wanting his mother to find out about him, until he met Ron.

Ron had always lived in Sandy Shores. His parents were alcoholics, like most people in the area, and failed to ever notice that there was something a little.. off, about Ron. He claimed to see things, people, hear voices. Most of the time it was about the lizard people, who were, according to him, always watching, disguised as normal people. They were basically spies for the Lizard God, who was one day going to exterminate all humans so that the lizard people could inhabit the earth on their own.

Trevor had seen him out in his yard one day, looking nervous as fuck and every now and then shouting that the lizard people were getting closer. This of course caught Trevor's interest, and he had went out and met the younger boy. It didn't take long to convince him to take Wade in, after all his parents were always so out of it that they wouldn't even notice if there was one or two children running around.

All three of them had been extremely close ever since, and while Trevor had never been the most kind to them, he did care about them. They certainly cared about him, too, and the two of them felt more like family than Trevor had known before.  
So he spent a lot of his days off doing things with Ron and Wade, and he didn't really have much time to even think about Michael.

That is, until Monday, when he walked to school and saw Michael and Amanda outside fighting again.

"God guys, really? I'm trying to have a relaxing morning for once."

"Fuck off, Trevor!"

Trevor grinned at Amanda's response, and he walked up the few stairs only to stop at the top, his gaze flicking from Amanda to Michael. He looked stiff, uncomfortable, so pretty normal for him.

"Hey Mikey. Thought you would've dumped this shitstick by now, but ahh well."

Amanda seemed to snap then, walking over and slapping Trevor across the face.

Michael's eyes widened, Amanda's as well, as she seemingly realized what she had just done. Or rather, who she had just hit, and she stepped back quickly, shaking her head.

"I-I didn't.. You were being an asshole! You've always been an asshole!"

Trevor's grin was gone, but he didn't appear angry, instead rather expressionless. He raised a hand to touch his reddening cheek. Michael stepped forward then, most likely trying to come between him and Amanda.

"Listen, T, she didn't--"

"I'm not gonna hurt her Michael, I'm not a fucking animal."

"I wasn't.. that's not what I was--"

"Shhh, it's fine, it's fine. She's feisty today. I get it. Not the first time I've been slapped by a whore, I'm fine."

Amanda's sound of frustration just made him laugh, but Michael still looked as uncomfortable as ever.

"Oh Amanda, you can't deny anything."

"You can't say anything about it, Trevor! Just take a fucking look at yourself."

"At myself?" Trevor glanced down at himself before looking back to Amanda, "I see no problem. I know what I like. Who I like, too, sure. I never said I was a Virgin Mary, god damn, Amanda."

"Yeah, but... Whatever. I'm done talking to you, Trevor. Stay away from me. And Michael!"

She turned to her boyfriend then, pointing her finger at him angrily.

"I don't like it when you hang out around him either! He makes you.. weird."

Michael shook his head, at a loss for words at the moment.

"I'll see you tonight, Michael. Don't be late, my parents will get all in a twist if you are."

And with that Amanda left, and it felt as though a hurricane had passed. To Trevor, anyway.

"She's pleasant."

"Shut up, T. She's not as bad as you think, she's just.. not very.. nice, around you."

"Oh, so she's nice around you?"

"...Not exactly. Look, I gotta get to class. I'll.. I'll talk to you later or something, okay?"

He started walking backwards to the doors, watching Trevor for his response.

"Wait! Give me your number, jackass."

Trevor walked closer, wrapping his arms around Michael to get to his backpack. Michael's discomfort was obvious, because well it'd probably be easier for Trevor to just get his own paper, but he said nothing as the other boy reached in and grabbed what he needed.

"Write it down."

Michael took the paper and pen when it was offered, and proceeded to write down his phone number.

"There. You happy now? 'Cause I really do have to go."

"Yup. Talk to you later, Mikey."

Trevor flashed another grin and offered a wave, watching Michael turn to finally walk away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGAIN I'm sorry for how fast things move, it's just because the story is more focused on the last years of highschool and the years beyond that. The first chapters move fast to show everything that happened leading up to the main focus, so sorry for the short chapters and fast pace!

The next few weeks went relatively the same. Trevor started texting Michael, trying to bother him with basically any chance he got. He messaged him about everything--class, food, people, whatever came to his mind at the time. After a bit he realized that he actually enjoyed talking to Michael, even if it had started as trying to annoy him, but it's not like he'd ever tell him that.

Amanda and Michael continued to fight, and after every football game it became a routine for Trevor to take Michael to the clearing in the forest and talk about random shit. Sometimes it was just about how the game went, how Michael was about to hunt down that one player and give him what he deserved, but other times the conversations were more serious.

Why Michael was with Amanda, for example. See, Trevor hadn't known that Michael was gay. Or.. hadn't known that Michael knew it, maybe, he wasn't sure. It'd always been obvious that he wasn't into Amanda, but he was still with her, you know? Trevor couldn't wrap his head around why Michael would make himself suffer like that when he didn't even enjoy Amanda's company in the slightest.

He'd said that there were numerous reasons why. He didn't want anyone suspecting him to be gay, which wasn't really working considering what people constantly graffitied and such on his car, but he figured dating the head cheerleader would draw away suspicion. Besides that, Amanda had wanted to date him, and despite everything, Michael did care about her. She wanted to look good to everyone else at the school, and what better way than to date the popular Michael Townley? Not to mention her parents apparently wanted her to date him, too, preferring him to guys like.. well, Trevor, probably.

After Michael had explained these things, Trevor had rolled his eyes.

"You need to stop, Townley."

"Stop what?"

"Stop caring what other people think about you."

"Real easy for you to say, T."

They talked about other things as well, like their families. Michael had told Trevor about how his father had a bad drinking problem and how nice words or compliments didn't exist in his vocabulary. He always made sure to let Michael know that he was a disappointment. And his mom, she was too afraid of him to stand up for herself. Michael hated his dad.

Trevor talked about his father as well. Wasn't always nice to him, but he always tried to make up for the things he did. They bonded a lot, and he always made sure to include Trevor in whatever he did, until of course he ended up dead. He told about his mother, how sure she wasn't around as much as he'd like, but she loved him. She was always trying her best and he knew it. He told about his brother, Ryan, and how he hadn't come with them when they moved to Sandy Shores, instead opting to stay behind and live with their grandmother. And so it goes.

Michael had remained quiet while Trevor spoke, and even after telling about his own parents, he still appeared to have sympathy in his moon-lit eyes, or rather some form of pity. Trevor left Michael behind at the clearing that night.

One night after the football game, Trevor had waited by Michael's car like usual, every now and then checking his phone for messages. There were none. Generally he was here by now.

About fifteen minutes later than usual, Michael finally showed, only there was some other guy behind him, in the same football outfit. He was... Brad Snider, if Trevor was remembering right. He'd never paid any attention to him on the field, but he'd heard about him a few times around school, about fights he'd been in.

They sounded like nothing near what Trevor could do, but he wasn't the type to brag.

However, he was the type to complain, so he let out a groan when Michael and Brad got closer.

"The fuck took you so long, Mikey?" Trevor questioned, his gaze trained on Brad.

"Just talking to Brad here, T. Sorry if I made you wait."

"Yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. You're here now, right?"

"Actually, ah, I can't come tonight. Brad's car's in the shop and he needs me to drive him home."

"What? Brad can come too."

Judging from his confused expression, Brad wasn't sure if he wanted to come. He was a little bit shorter than Trevor, bigger than Michael, and looked arrogant as hell with his blonde hair and snobby nose.

"Where, exactly, are you going?" He asked, turning his attention to Michael.

"Uh, just this little thing in the woods. You.. Okay, T, whatever. Come on Brad, just come with us and I'll drive you home afterwards, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever, but I gotta get home sometime soon so remember that."

And so on, and it became a normal thing for Brad to join them in the clearing. He was definitely a snob, and rude as fuck, but Trevor didn't mind him as much as he thought he would. The conversations swayed away from personal, the three instead talking about rather trivial things once again. Trevor wasn't willing to talk about anything else with Brad around.

In all honesty he missed being able to talk to Michael, all alone with the trees and the moon. But that was cheesy and borderline romantic, and that wasn't something Trevor would let himself linger on.

Besides, it was sort of fun having Brad around, after he got used to him. They'd joke about the cheerleaders and the other football players, and started hanging out more in school as well, playing pranks on unfortunate students and asshole teachers. Trevor learned how fun it was to actually have friends, not just people who looked up to you, and he enjoyed it so much more than he thought he would.

Something that Trevor prided himself on now was how persuasive he could be, with Michael in particular. Really though, if Michael didn't want Trevor's interference, he shouldn't talk to him about personal things. Anyway, Trevor had went to a football game to watch Michael and Brad as usual, but much to his surprise, Michael wasn't out on the field. The whole crowd was surprised, in fact, and the team.. well they sucked. It was the first game they had lost this season, and it was obvious that it was because they were lacking one Michael Townley.

He had shown up halfway through the game, his voice an odd sound for the situation, and Trevor had shamelessly jumped at it. It was just surprising, alright.

"What are you doing? Your team's out there losing, dumbass."

"Not my team, dumbass." Michael had replied, grinning at his friend.

"You.. are you for real? You quit the team?"

"Damn right I did. You told me to stop caring what other people think, and well, I did. Guess who's enrolled in drama class."

Michael's grin was contagious, Trevor remembered, and that was the first time that he admitted to himself that he liked seeing that smile. Liked causing it, even if indirectly.

"You're not supposed to listen to me, Mikey, you should learn a thing or two from our fellow students. I'm.. glad, though. You're gonna do great on stage."

"You're too kind. Really, don't strain yourself."

"Shut the fuck up, Michael. You'll only do great 'cause you're so fake. Now come on, let's celebrate this joyous occasion with booze and cigarettes!"

And so they had left the game, the only one that Trevor had considered really important. Because it was the beginning, or maybe the end, of a better part of his life.

They'd taken Michael's car and went to Trevor's trailer, ordered pizza and drank until they were all laughs and nothing mattered. They watched stupid cartoons and laughed at jokes that made no sense to anyone but them, fell over each other on the couch in their laughter, and Michael laid down across it so that Trevor could lay next to him, his head resting on his chest so that they could both see the TV. It had made sense to them at the time, after all nothing seemed as important when they were that drunk.

Trevor had said how he was happy that Michael listened to him, because he deserved to do what he wanted rather than try to live up to what other people wanted. He told him how he was so happy that they were friends, because Michael was different than everyone else. He told him how he thought he was falling in love with him, because he was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Michael had run his fingers gently over Trevor's rosy cheeks, smiled at his glassy eyes, kissed his alcohol-stained lips until their eyes refused to open and they found themselves in a peaceful rest.

And they stored the night away in their memories to never speak about again.

Michael was everything. Trevor was nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

The summer after sophomore year left Trevor distraught. No drama, so that was good, but Trevor wasn't sure how he felt about that. He hadn't talked to Michael since the year had ended, and it had been at a cast party for the drama class. They'd just performed their last show of the year, and it was the second show Michael had been a part of. He was really good, as expected, and the school didn't seem to hold it against him that he had quit the football team. Rather, he was still ever popular, it seemed like people would follow him no matter what he decided to do.

Trevor wasn't really supposed to be at the cast party, after all it was only for the cast, but Michael had assured him that it was fine for him to go. He was distant that night, but even so, he had told Trevor that they'd see each other all summer. It wasn't like they were moving away from each other or anything, they just wouldn't see each other at school for a few months. Trevor had believed him at the time, until of course the end of summer, when Michael had not called or texted him at all.

He was aware that he could have tried calling him instead, or just going over to his house and seeing him there. But something in him was unsure, unsteady, ever since that night that Michael had quit the football team. He'd never meant to tell Michael all those things, wasn't even sure he believed in them.

Well, he was. He'd meant all of it. It was just that the thought of Michael knowing he felt that way.. Trevor couldn't could how many times over the summer that he'd taken too many pills his mother had left around. Thing is, it never worked. He had a much higher tolerance than he had thought.

Maybe that was a sad thing. He didn't know, didn't care.

The only thing he knew for sure was the way he felt about Michael, and he was going to see him tomorrow, on the first day of junior year. He felt sick--something that might have worried him before, but it wasn't an odd thing for him to throw up multiple times a day anymore.

Clothes were strewn about the trailer, and still being thrown about as Trevor tried to find something he was okay with wearing tomorrow. He'd never cared about how he looked, still didn't really, but.. he was anxious. He needed something to do right now, and this was a solution. Otherwise he was sure he'd blow his brains out in an instant, and Ron wouldn't appreciate cleaning him off of the walls.

"Fuck, know what? Jacket and sweatpants it is." Good ol' default outfit always worked best. No need for extra thought being put into his clothes. He stared out at the clothes around his home and groaned in frustration.

He could hear the TV on in the other room, on some news station kindly informing everyone for the thousandth time that school resumed tomorrow for Blaine County and telling everyone about recent deaths and accidents. He thought it fitting that school announcements and those of death were so closely talked about.

Trevor brought his hand back and closed it into a fist before slamming it against the trailer wall.

"What's up, Trevor?" He heard Ron shout from outside, though it was late at night by now.

"FUCK OFF, RONALD, GO BACK TO SLEEP."

"Alright, Trevor! Be careful!"

There was a brief silence then, Trevor's eyes trained on his fist that now bled from one finger. But the silence was gone soon enough, broken by the ever annoying host on the TV.

He changed into the jacket and sweatpants he had decided on, afterwards crawling into bed without bothering to turn off the lights or the TV. The door was always unlocked, in hope that his mother would return one night and never leave again.

It was a quickly diminishing hope, but a hope he was unwilling to let go of nonetheless.

Trevor had trouble sleeping these days, but what didn't he have trouble with? He was asleep within a number of hours. The first two were spent clawing at the sheets, just to see if he could tear the material with his fingernails alone. The only thing he succeeded at doing was getting blood smeared on the sheets, and he fell asleep sometime after that.

 

In the morning he got up and splashed water on his face and hair, knowing that he couldn't possibly make himself look nice but figuring he'd at least give it a try. The water at least woke him up, not that he'd be paying attention in class anyways but it was nice to not be quite as tired all the time. His hair was a mess, sticking up all over as usual. Brushing his teeth was a regular thing now too, because he preferred the taste of toothpaste to the taste of acid remaining in his mouth from throwing up.

He grabbed his bag after he was all ready, going outside and deciding to walk with Ron and Wade to school.

He made it through the morning without seeing Michael at all. In fact he didn't see him until lunch, and even then only barely, considering he was sitting with all the other drama students and looked rather involved with whatever they were talking about over there. So Trevor stayed on his side of the cafeteria, with no meal or desire to eat, just a simple wish to observe.

People passed by without a word, however almost everyone who went by spent time looking over at him and staring. He wasn't too sure why himself, but anyone who hadn't seen him over the summer could see the difference.  
He was naturally skinny, but now he looked starved, his skin an unnatural pale color and the dark circles under his eyes a harsh contrast. He had scabs on his arms and face, from picking at his skin and from hitting things around the trailer. He'd always been somewhat this way, but now it was more extreme, to the point of catching attention.

At one point he thought he caught Michael's gaze, but it was gone as soon as it came, and Trevor wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not.

After lunch he had one class where he just stared at the wall, but the next he was pretty sure he shared with Michael. So of course he was freaking out about that fact, unsure of what to say, what to do, what it would be like seeing him again.

It shouldn't be weird. They were friends. Good friends.

Trevor got to class quickly, not wanting to get there after Michael and have to be the one to start conversation, or sit next to him, or what have you. He just sat down in the middle of a few empty desks, hoping that soon enough Michael would walk through that door and sit down right next to him.

But he didn't. He walked in with Amanda and a few of his drama friends he'd sat with at lunch, because apparently the entire school had this same fucking class, and they all sat down near the front of the classroom.  
Trevor wasn't a quiet person. He wasn't the type to sit around and wait for people to act, he was the type to do it himself. He was loud. Angry. Outgoing. But Michael's lack of attention, lack of recognition even, reduced him to his fuming silence, his glare fixed on the back of Michael's head.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking at the teacher as the bell rang. He couldn't do this, nope. Wasn't willing to or wanting to. No point. Trevor stood up, catching the attention of a few students, and walked right out of the classroom. The teachers had learned long ago that there was no point in trying to make Trevor ask to leave. It was just a blessing to have him in class at all really.

Trevor found himself at the bathroom fast enough, and he immediately went to the stall and vomited.

He was fine.

He wiped the spit from his mouth, afterwards running a hand through his hair, and he remained there until the last bell rang, doing nothing but dig his fingernails into his scalp and breathe.

By the time he started to walk out of the bathroom, so that he could go home, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He grabbed it, reading the message as he walked through the hallway.

Are you okay?

It was from Michael, so Trevor deleted it and continued walking. He would have made it home without incident, too, if it wasn't for Michael fucking Townley blocking his path once he was outside.

"Move, Townley."

"Please, T. I just wanna talk."

"Oh, really? Didn't seem like it, you sure?"

"Oh come on, it's the first day. It wasn't anything against you."

"Ahh yes, that's a good excuse to ignore me, 'cause it's the first day. Great job on that one, really."

Trevor tried to push past him, but Michael grabbed his arm to keep him there.

"Trevor. Please."

"You're so fucking stupid, aren't you. You don't get anything. Sure, Michael, go ahead. Tell me how you've just been so busy today and didn't have the time to say hi. Or maybe you wanted to say that you didn't mean to ignore me, you really didn't see me. Hey, maybe I could even believe that one, everyone else can certainly look through me without a problem. So what is it, Michael?"

"I'm.. I wasn't going to.."

"Mmm, sure. You weren't going to. I'm not going to either. I'd prefer to just go home and cry myself to sleep. Oh, wait! That's right, you're not worth crying over. I just wanna go home and stare at a wall, 'cause it's more interesting than you are, Townley."  
"Just stop it, okay? I get it. You're pissed at me because I didn't say hi to you the instant I saw you. I was going to apologize, but if you wanna be like this then go ahead, Trevor, it doesn't make a difference to me."

"I know."

Trevor was gentle when he pried his arm from Michael's grasp, his anger seemingly having disappated. He didn't look back when he started walking again, and made his way home without a message or a call from Michael.

However, the door was open when he arrived at the trailer, a fact that made his heart feel like it would beat out of his chest. Not like anyone thought he had a heart anyway, it wouldn't be too bad if it did just jump out now.

He dropped his bag in the yard, walking up the few stairs and going inside, his expression changing completely when he saw his mother sitting on the couch, a cigarette in her hand.

"M-Mom?"

He hadn't seen her since last year. She looked the same.

"Get your mom a drink, will you? Goddamn, you have no manners at all, do you."

Trevor uttered not a word, immediately going to the refrigerator to grab a beer and hand it to his mother. He stood in front of her anxiously, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm sorry, I-I'll be better about it next time. Is there anything else you need?"

"Why'd it take you so long to get home? Where the fuck were you?"

"School, mom. Someone was talking to me."

"Hm. A girl?"

"N-no, it was one of my friends."

"You have friends?" She squinted her eyes at her son, "You fucking liar, it's a girl. Did you fuck her?"

"What? Mom, no, I--"

"What's it even matter? No point in trying to fix you now. Your father was fucked up, and he fucked you up, now you're gonna fuck up some girl and have a baby, and the baby's gonna get fucked up. It's a fucked up world, Trevor."

He was silent.

"Answer me when I speak to you, you fucking useless kid. Don't know why I ever had you. Your brother was enough. At least he had some fucking sense and cared about his mother."

"He still does, mom, and I do too, I'd do anything--"

"Oh fuck you, Trevor! Stop being such a goddamn child for once!" She put out her cigarette on the arm of the couch.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I--"

"Stop apologizing. I don't wanna hear it. You're not gonna make up for anything. You ruined my life, you know that? We were a happy family. Your dad was okay, Ryan was smart. I didn't have to sell my body for you fucking kids, cause we were okay without you. Once you came into the picture? God damn it."

She took a long drink of her beer, and Trevor simply stared.

"If Ryan was still alive, he'd take care of me. He cared, unlike you. You're so fucking useless. No one's ever gonna love you, not even your goddamn mother. Why do you have to drive people away? Why, Trevor?"

"M-mom, Ryan's fine, he's with Grandma in Canada, remember? I-I can't help it mom, I.."

"Are you serious? Are you fucking serious?"

She raised her arm, smashing the beer bottle over her son's head in her frustration without even standing from the couch. Trevor fell, but caught himself before he hit the ground, and his hands went to cover the top of his head. He wanted to cry, but he knew it wouldn't help. Even if he was useless he wasn't a fucking weakling.

"Ryan's dead, Trevor! Ryan's been dead since he was eight years old! You're so fucking ignorant, if you actually listened to me for once you would know!"

"What?"

"You should be so grateful to me, I brought you into this world and I cared for you, took care of you, and this is how you repay me? By being a fucking disappointment?"

"Ryan's not dead, mom."

"SHUT UP, TREVOR. I AM SPEAKING TO YOU."

"He's with Grandma."

"Oh? Oh is he? GRANDMA'S FUCKING DEAD. You were at her funeral, you fucker, and you laughed. You laughed when you saw my mother's dead body, and that's when I really knew you were fucked up. I should have suffocated you like your dad said."

"My brother's not dead."

"Get it through your fucking head. Get me another goddamn drink."

Trevor stood, and some of the glass from her previous drink fell from his hair. He went to the refrigerator again, grabbing another beer, walking back over to his mother, who seemed to be settling down. If only slightly.

She reached for the beer, and he reached for her wrist. He grabbed first, and it was snapped in half, her scream piercing his ears immediately.

"Ryan's in Canada, mom. He stayed behind with Grandma."

She had no response but another shout of pain, mingled with curse words directed at him. The beer bottle was smashed against her head, the glass cutting the skin on her cheek, crimson trailing down her face.

"I didn't fuck a girl, mom. I was talking to my friend."

He tilted his head then, and as he did so snapped her other wrist. His next words combined with her scream.

"Wait, I don't have any friends, do I. No one loves me, do they. I'm useless, aren't I. Am I, mom? Do you love me?"

She couldn't even look at him, glass was in her eyes. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

"Do you love me?"

With an obvious amount of pain, one eye opened, bleeding and red.

"Fuck you," She spat out, her voice strained.

Trevor's movements felt then mechanical, as if he was a robot designed specifically for the purpose of going into his room and grabbing his pistol only to return to the living room. It also felt mechanical when he took the safety off and cocked it. He only felt human when he pulled the trigger.

So he pulled it five times. In the head, the chest, the legs. He felt his own humanity as he watched his mother's fade, leaving her a bloody mess on the couch, certainly not human.

He didn't lower the gun after that, but raised it to his bloody temple, falling to his knees.

"I wouldn't do you the favor of killing myself, mom."

So the gun dropped to the bloody, glass-covered floor.

The trailer door was closed and locked, and Trevor was sitting on his bed, staring at his phone. His blood-stained fingers went through his contacts until he found Michael's name, and pulled up a new message.

mikey. im srry bout earlier. didnt mean it.

Soon enough he got a response.

It's fine, Trevor.

no its not. ur defiantly worth crying over.

Defiantly?

shut the fuk up im trying to be nice

Thank you.

so am i forgiven??

Sure, what the hell. You're pretty cool.

u 2 mikey

There was no message after that, so he set his phone down, figuring Michael was done speaking to him tonight. But soon enough the phone rang, and he hesitantly answered it.

"Townley?"

"Hey, T. Figured I'd call you and talk to you since I didn't at school."

"Ugh, I was so happy about it though. Your voice is death."

"I'm very aware. What are you doing?"

"Taking out the fuckin' trash. Fun stuff."

"Oh yeah, real fun."

"What are you doing, Mikey?"

"I'm at practice right now, actually, but I don't think they really need me on stage tonight."

"Mm. So you're just fucking around and getting in the way, I'm guessing."

"Yes."

"Sounds like you."

"Oh, don't start. ...I, uh. I also wanted to say that I'm sorry. For today. I really did mean to talk to you."

He didn't believe that, couldn't really. But he appreciated the thought.

"It's fine, Mikey. Just don't do it again, you fucker."

"Yeah, I wont. Anyway, I gotta go, okay?"

"Yeah. Have a nice night, Michael."

Once the line was dead, Trevor set his phone down, and let himself fall asleep.


	6. Chapter Six

The next day was more normal. He got ready as usual, not putting nearly as much consideration into his clothes as he had yesterday, and was ready to go in a matter of minutes. All he'd really had to do was wash blood off his hands and face, and of course shake out whatever glass that hadn't fallen out of his hair already. His scalp hurt like hell, he was sure there were numerous little cuts all over it, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

Trevor walked outside, locking the door behind him, and grabbed the bag he'd left outside last night. He'd had homework to do, but when had he ever put effort into school? He wasn't about to start.

He decided not to wait for Ron and Wade, and this caused him to arrive at school a bit earlier than usual. He half-hoped to see Michael out in front of the school, half-hoped he didn't see him at all. He wasn't really sure what he wanted.

But it wasn't his decision to make. Michael was, of course, outside of the school when Trevor got closer, standing around with his drama friends. Honestly Trevor couldn't tell who was worse, the drama friends or the football friends. Everyone here just seemed to have a snobby attitude no matter what they did or who they were.

He didn't walk over, but he did catch Michael's gaze, and soon enough the drama student was walking on over. At first he didn't speak, just grabbed Trevor's arm gently to lead him over to a less populated area. He wasn't sure if it was for more privacy or because he didn't want to be seen together, wasn't sure if he cared.

"Hey, T."

It sounded like Michael had meant to say more, but his attention wasn't on his words, but rather on Trevor. He seemed to really look at him now, how his clothes were way baggier than even usual, how his face was full of cuts and darkness.

"Jesus, are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you've been eating nothing but cardboard and never sleeping. That's not what I'd call 'fine.'"

"Fuck off, Townley. I mean it. I'm fine."

Michael obviously didn't believe his words, but said nothing else about it. He did, however, step closer, and slid his arms around Trevor's waist in a hug. It was gentle and soft, unexpected, and so it took Trevor a minute to return the hug.

"I really am sorry, T. Not just for yesterday, I mean.. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you this summer. It was a real asshole thing to do."

"...Yeah, it was."

"I.. I was confused, and I thought that being around you would make it worse. I'm not confused anymore, though, okay? I'm not gonna do that shit again."

Trevor didn't reply, unsure of what he meant exactly, but somehow he felt like it was wrong. It brought on a sinking feeling.

"Okay, what the fuck do you mean?"

"Trevor, I.. I fucked up. I made you think that I was trying to.. be with you. I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I feel like I led you on."

The gentle breeze brought the smell of flowers, the sound of trees and leaves swaying. Trevor felt a shiver go down his spine even as the day was warm, and he could feel Michael's breath on his neck.

"You're an idiot, Mikey. You didn't lead me on."

"I didn't? But.. that night, you said--"

"I say a lot of shit things when I'm drunk. Don't overthink them."

"Really? ...Well, that makes me feel a lot better. Here I thought you were some wounded animal. So.." Michael pulled away then, "We're okay?"

Trevor felt a drop of blood as it rolled down his neck, he supposed from one of the cuts on the back of his head.

"We're tight as hell, Mikey."

Michael smiled then, content with his answer, before saying a goodbye and running off to rejoin his friends. Trevor remained there, turned his eyes up towards the sky, and let out the breath he'd been holding in.


End file.
